


A Partridge in a Pear Tree

by misura



Category: Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954)
Genre: F/M, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:57:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8838424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a loudly crying babe, a relative come a-visiting and a stern talking-to.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melitot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melitot/gifts).



Adam Pontipee loved his daughter. Not exclusively - fact was, there was quite a list of people he loved, and some he'd as soon not think of too deeply, but when a man had enough, a man had enough.

"Oh, just hold her for a while, will you?" Milly said.

Milly was a woman, and a right sensible one at that. Adam wasn't sure quite how that fixed up to letting him deal with a screaming, crying babe. For one, he didn't like it.

For two, neither seemed little Hannah.

"A screamer, isn't she? Got a good, healthy pair of lungs on her, just like her mother."

Milly gave him a look informing him in no uncertain terms that laying on the flattery wasn't going to win him no favors this time. Which was a right pity, considering he'd been working on it for nearly a week. "Have you spoken to Caleb lately?"

"Well, he's my brother and he's living under this right here roof," Adam said. "So I reckon that I have."

People'd been telling him Hannah'd inherited the Popintree eyes and chin. Might be she'd inherited the red hair, too, and the temper coming with it.

"Him and Ruth, they're really itchin' to get their own place, special now that Benjamin and Dorcas went and gotten themselves a nice little house in town."

Adam grimaced. Hannah gurgled. It being the least noisiest sound she'd produced for at least an hour, Adam aimed to keep that grimace right where it was. Thinking on Benjamin and his situation here helped.

Before, the farm'd seemed a right fit for the seven of them. Add in a wife for some cooking and cleaning, and Adam'd felt he'd gotten himself a proper household.

Course, then each and every one of the fools'd gone and gotten themselves wives of their own, too. Made the farm seem right crowded some times.

"Well, they'll have to wait. I ain't made of money." Plenty of work around the farm for five strong lads, and the ladies seemed to find plenty that needed doing as well, once they set their minds to it.

Sewing and knitting and baking and embroidering and who knew what else. Milly wasn't no one to tolerate no layabouts, and didn't Adam know it.

"Be Christmas again soon, too," Milly said, which wasn't having nothing to do with anything they'd been talking about afore, far as Adam could see. "We'll have a proper celebration this year, with a tree and cake and presents. We'll hang little decorations in the big room, make it look proper festive."

Adam'd learned to recognize a 'we' what didn't include him. "Sounds grand. You ladies have yourselves some fun now. I'll tell the lads to stand at the ready, case you want some heavy lifting or the like."

They probably would. Not sensible Milly now, but some of the younger ones were right silly. Not that the lads were any better. They were proper matched that way.

"You can do some shopping for me," Milly said, fixing him with a glance that as left no doubt there'd be a right row were he to refuse or aim to wriggle out of it, all subtle like. "I'll make a list."

"Right you are." Milly-dear wanted him to go a-shopping, a-shopping he'd go.

Hannah reached out little hands, fixing to grab whatever part of his face she might reach.

"You have been giving it some thought, then?" Milly asked.

"Given what some thought?" A mistake, and one that'd cost him. First thing to know about women: they didn't like it none when you sounded like you hadn't been paying them no heed.

"Caleb and Ruth," Milly said. "And Daniel and Liza, Ephraim and Martha, Frank and Sarah, and Gideon and Alice. The whole lot of them. They all want places of their own, Adam. Like we have - or would have, weren't we surrounded by your brothers and their gals. It ain't I don't love them - I do. Each and every one of them, as dear as if they were my own family."

"Which they are, having married my brothers and all," Adam felt compelled to point out. Never mind that it wouldn't be winning him no smile, what was true was true. "But yes, I see. Don't think I don't have no sympathy for a man wanting a home of his own, I do. I understand not wanting to stumble over some relative each and every time you go looking for someplace quiet, fixing to make some noise."

Milly blushed a mite, taking his meaning clear enough.

At least with winter coming, they wouldn't have to worry about someone using the tree next to their bedroom window no more. Adam still didn't know a fellow'd be able to make a proper bed there, special with a lady friend to keep happy.

Ephraim'd sure seemed keen on giving it a whirl. Just as well Adam'd spotted him when he had. Been all the worse for everyone involved, had it been later.

"Course, even as they go and get homes of their own, they still going to be back here for Christmas." Milly'd been telling him something of the like, Adam thought. Some girlish dream had taken her fancy.

Truth be told, Adam'd heard girlish dreams a sight sillier than that.

"You have been making plans, then?" Milly asked. Woman had her teeth clamped down, seemed like.

"Sure, I've put out some feelers. A word in an ear here and there." Not like the gals didn't have no fathers or family, equally keen on seeing them settled proper. "Don't you worry none, now."

"I ain't worried." Milly sighed. "Oh, but I am going to miss them. I am." Way she sounded, you'd think someone'd accused her of some kind of crime.

"Whatever for?" Little Hannah'd settled down for making a noise far better suited to her size. Seemed near sleep, in fact, which was a fine thing, Adam having plans for the evening other than talking and baby-sitting. "They ain't even gone yet." Three, four steps to the cradle, and step away a free man.

"But they will be." Milly sighed again. "Tell me honest, you don't miss Benjamin? You won't miss Caleb, or Daniel, or Gideon?"

"Like a rotten tooth." Adam'd had one of those once. Dan'd knocked it clean out, one day.

"Oh, Adam." Milly shook her head. She had on her 'men are such difficult, stubborn creatures' face.

"S'pose I might miss them some," Adam amended. "Lots of work that needs doing on the farm." Time came, they'd have kids helping out. Hannah and whatever name with an I there was in the Bible - Isaac, maybe, assuming Milly'd get him a boy.

Adam reckoned he was owed at least one of those, all that time he'd spent raising his brothers.

"We'll make it work," Milly said. "You'll see."

"Never doubted it for a second," Adam said. He hadn't, neither. Best not to point that out, he judged.

"I'm real glad you been thinking 'bout all this already. Caleb came to see me, he had me right fretted."

Caleb'd best be learning when to keep his mouth shut, he knew what was good for him, stead of going round, fretting other people's wives. "I tell you fair, Milly. This Christmas'll mark the first, last and only Christmas they all still be living under this here roof. So you'd best enjoy it, now, you hear."

"I'm sure I will." Sparkling eyes, bluer than cornflowers, and hair the color of wheat in the sunshine.

Man didn't need to be no poet, he'd gone and found himself a wife like Milly. Didn't need to know how to act like no gentleman, neither, for all that Milly seemed to like her some manners.

"I'll be looking forwards to the feast," Adam said. Good, honest food was a fine thing, and no man needed more'n that. Even so, once in a while, no harm in something a mite fancy, more fit for, say, a barn-raising than a regular old breakfast or dinner.

Milly rolled her eyes. She imagined he'd gone and gotten himself a bit of a sweet tooth, which was plain silly. "Men. Can you think of nothing else but victuals?"

Hannah'd decided to keep nice and quiet. Adam grinned. "Well, now. Milly-dear. You been on your feet all day, working. Feeling all tuckered out now, I'd bet. What say we call it an early night, fix ourselves a proper night's sleep?"

"A proper night's sleep, he says," Milly said. "Adam Pontipee, you are the most terrible, hopeless liar I've ever set eyes on."

Adam sketched one of them silly bows and offered her his arm. "Ma'am. Your servant."

"Leastways you didn't say 'humble'," Milly said, putting her hand on his arm.

"Well, a man has to know his limits."


End file.
